sometimes it just needs to be said: a race report from mr. snarky

Today's entry comes to you from a guest blogger, James. James is a runner friend of mine who completed the Chicago Marathon last weekend. He sent me his report from the race and I asked him if I could share it with you. I added the pictures because he hasn't given me any. Being a photo journalist, I think he should have done his race report as a photo story instead. Doesn't everyone know that it is incredibly easy to carry an expensive camera with a telephoto lens with you as you run 26.2 miles?!...wimp. So, it's his own dang fault if he objects.

Now, James REALLY likes to give me a hard time, so feel free to slam him for making fun of people who DNSed at the Lewis and Clark Marathon....punk. I also razzed him for his apparent aversion to encouragement along the race course. I have to remember never to give him a pat on the back for fear he miiiight stick his foot somewhere I would really rather not like one of his appendages. So, play nice everyone and welcome our fellow runner to the blogosphere...happy reading!


Ok...it started out rather nice with a fine pasta dinner at the pasta party and lots of sleep, more than I had had in several weeks at one time. We all got up and met in the lobby and noticed it was warmer than we thought it might be. Nevertheless, it was nice out. We even got some pixs with a running group from Japan.....

I led Team Alton in a group prayer and we headed for our starting positions. I had to cut away from everyone because I was up in Corral B. I should have stayed with the group! I found a nice stand of trees just outside my starting area to pee and it seemed I had started something because before long, every tree had someone, male or female, doing their business.

The race started out fine. I crossed the start line...BEEEEEEEEEP, when I noticed I was right next to one of the 3:20 pace groups. "Hey, cool," I said, I’ll just run with them.” Wow, it was warming up by mile 3, and I still hadn't got my wind, so I turned on some music to ease into it. Yes, yes that helped to run with the rhythm. Step, step, breath deep, in, out, in, out........... much better now. Now I’m running in stride with the pacer and he looks over at me to see what our pace is on my Garmin. I gave him hand signals when we need to step up or down, but for the most part we were dead on or under. After some short conversations with "Dave the Pacer,” I find out that he was from St. Louis, and skipped the LC marathon because of the rain. I laughed and said it was a enjoyable run, something to talk about years later....In my mind, I thought ..."Sissy." LOL

By mile 8, I was having trouble keeping a steady pace. I was up and down, falling behind and pushing to catch back up. I got out in front of the pacer a few steps, to make him push me, and it worked. I was back in the groove when I noticed I was going through a lot more of my sports drink that I carry with me. I used half more than I normally do......crap! It’s getting hot!!!

This pic is not of James...He's not a Kenyan.

I was doing fine, no cramps, no pain, and then it hit me at the 20K mark-WHAM! The wall… ouch, that hurt!!!! I slowed down to fill up my water bottle, and the only thing I could see was my pace group pulling away from me. Double crap! By mile 13.1, all I wanted to do was sit down on the curb and weep. Ouch, the pain was everywhere! Not the shin splints that had given me trouble for weeks before, not any leg cramps, no one place, I just hurt and hurt bad. I had felt this type of pain before in earlier marathons, but not until mile 20-21 and never this bad......the beast had hit me, but hadn't knocked me down.

My breath was gone and the pain that cursed through my veins made me feel like I had been beat with a baseball bat and, to top it off, my ipod quit.....triple crap! “S*&#!” I said, “Why am I not sweating anymore?....That can't be good.” Light headed and blisters forming on the bottom of my toes, (that had never happened before…triple- dog crap!) I limped to the side and slowed to a hobbling walk and yelled out the only adjective that fit the way I felt… "F@#%!(sometimes it just has to be used!)......Am I stopping?" I asked myself, “Has the beast got the best of me?” I only had half a marathon to go, so I slammed a Gu, took on some H2O, and picked up the pace.


In the next several miles, I saw slower pace groups pass me. I tried to speed up to keep up with them and try and salvage something from my first 20K. The pain would creep back in and hit me. Hey, it is hard to run with blisters....S@#%, this wasn't what I had planned for. Around mile 18.5, I tried my ipod one more time. Boom, it kicked on...got to love that Elvis! Time and time again, I had to tell myself, "Suck it up, sissy. You’re a black belt, for God’s sake, don't let the beast beat you."

I started to see earlier people that had left me behind, now suffering at the hands of the beast. I passed one runner who hit the ground, calling out in pain from cramps. As I passed, I started to slow up to help him, but instead went on. It just hurt too much to slow down or bend over.

This starts the ADD portion of James's story....

Awwwww crap, it was getting hot.....I was throwing cups of water over my head, something I normally don't do, all in an attempt to shake the beast. I saw others stopped in the shade with onlookers dowsing them with water, trying to cool them down.....Oh look someone throwing up.......mmmmmm bananas. I had to come in under 4 hours. That was the time I had set for myself in my first marathon, and I was not going to go over 4......breath, breath, breath....what breath?

Hey, what are all these red flags out here? Ouch, pain…Oooo water… need water....(the red flags were the high heat warning system they had put into place that I forgot about...different colors for different conditions).

Hey look! Mile 25, I'm almost done! "Almost there! Just a mile to go,” someone cheered from the side with a perky little smile on his face. "Keep on going! You can do it!" No s@#$ I can do it, you fat bastard. I just ran 25 miles, half of it in pain. I sure the hell am not going to stop now! I would have stopped and kicked him in [his man parts], but I’m not sure I could get my foot up there!

Up a hill and around the corner I went with .2 to go! "Pick it up sissy," I told myself. "Got to get that sub 4.”

“Get out of my way, you little twit," my mind yelled out to some stupid b@#$% that decides to stop within sight of the finish.....some people.

I crossed the line, in too much pain to even stop my Garmin...3:54, now that is cutting it close. CRAP!

As I made my way through the finishers lanes it was like a death walk. It was quiet, but for the music playing and the guy on the P.A........I got some water and found a wheel chair in the shade and watched as runners were helped to the aid stations and others up-chuck because they drank tooooo much water way toooooo fast after stopping. There were some tough runners here today! To see how people pushed themselves to the line only to need to be carried after that....odd people us runners...